Desire's Cruel Touch
by Destiny1195
Summary: Howl and Sophie spent many happy years together; until, in a moment of fear and stupidity, Howl banishes her from the castle, as he has so many woman before her. Now, he must recover from the deep depression he has fallen into, as well as mend the slowly decaying relationship with his teenage apprentice, Markl, who's begun to see Howl as more than a mentor. Eventual HowlxMarkl


**So, this is another knew story from me. Something a bit different this time. As ever, I really don't know where it's going, but we'll see what the responses are like.**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoy this, onwards we go people**

He slouched alone on his grand, royal burgundy coloured king sized bed. His long black hair hung over his dazzling ocean blue eyes, and down onto his slim, yet muscled bare chest. His blue pendent hung down on his chest, a small memento he never removed; the matching ear rings lay scattered on a nearby table, sitting amongst the clutter. His mouth was turned down in a scowl, a look that had become a near constant for him, ever since the departure of a certain young woman who had captured his heart. Of course, he only had himself to blame for it. He'd done exactly what his reputation demanded; got close to someone, and dropped them as soon as things became too serious; the main issue this time, hence his moping, was the fact that he really had cared about Sophie. As had everyone else in his extended family for that matter, which made things that much worse. She wasn't a nameless conquest, some young beauty to fuck; she'd meant more to him than that.

She's started as the elder cleaning lady, and had worked her way into the hearts of everyone in the menagerie he called a family; until they had all begun to see what he did: the young, beautiful woman who had been wrongly cursed by a vengeful witch; another to fall victim to his ways.

But, that was months ago now. He had, in a moment of pure stupidity cast from him the one person who could truly make him happy, after years of being in each other's company. Now, he had returned to what he had been originally: Howl, legendary and near mythical wizard, known for ripping out the hearts of the young and beautiful, and eating them as a snack. So the stories went at least; whilst he never ripped out any hearts physically, he had emotionally. He had left a trail of broken hearted women in his wake, a fact he was not proud of.

Of course, the stories missed out one crucial fact; he was completely and utterly alone.

An anguish filled cry erupted from Howl's mouth, as tears began to trickle down his handsome face; within moments, what had started as a gentle trickle formed into a torrent of misery and regret. The years of meaningless women, and the loss of the one he truly cared about, coupled with the endless running and identity changing had simply proven too much.

"I don't have anything left to live for..." the whispered words passed through his lips, barely audible, not that there was anyone to hear them. Everyone else was in a different part of the house, no doubt listening to Calcifer groan about something.

His room, encrusted with trinkets and gold as it was, began to darken noticeably. His lean body began to take on a green tint, and gradually began to lose shape, slowly melting away into a vaguely shaped green mass. The last time he'd done this, a beautiful woman had dragged him out off it. But she was gone now...

 _xxx_

A deep rumbling reverberated throughout the castle, knocking pots off shelves, books from their resting place, and the light that illuminated the roaming machine's insides slowly began to fade; something that set the denizens of the moving castle on edge. They had experienced it before, and knew precisely what it meant. The darkening, the groaning of the structure, it all pointed to Howl summoning the dark spirits; something he only did when his depression hit him.

Within moments, the piping groaned, and began to shake and rattle; yet the machine lumbered ever on, though at greater speeds now.

"Howl! Why do you do this to me you damned sod!" a shout from the pantry, yet it travelled throughout the structure "Get your head out of your arse you moron. You'll burn me out!"

The shout came from a small ball of fire centred in the pantries spacious, though bland, fire place. The ball grew larger, flared blue, and continued to thrash; a face full of anger materialised in the flames, tongue flicking out, picking up whatever material could be burned to keep itself going. This was, after all, Calcifer, the spirit of fire that kept Howl's moving castle going. When Howl was in one of these moods, his magic seemed to sap the power from the castle, forcing the fire spire to burn brighter and hotter, keeping the castle intact and moving.

An obscenely round, shrivelled face peaked out from a mass of blankets piled on a rocking chair, though all one could really see was the long, flat nose, and the strangely cunning eyes. The chair sat before the fire, and housed someone who had once been powerful and feared. The face moved forwards a little more, revealing itself to be that of an old woman. She looked at Calcifer, in all his flaming glory, a small smile upon her sunken lips.

"Such a pretty fire" said the mass of flesh and bones, as she continued to rock back and forth, seemingly oblivious to what was going on around her.

Calcifer peered down at the rocking bundle, a look of pure disbelief passing across the wall of flame that was his face; his whole body in fact.

"Mad old bat" his voice was laced with disbelief and general confusion; whilst the Witch of the Waste no longer had her magic, keeping her around just seemed odd to the spirit.

"So pretty...good fire" she continued rocking, apparently ignoring everything but Calcifer's burning.

 _xxx_

In another section of the moving collection of bolts, bricks, wood and metal, a teenage boy ricocheted off the seething walls of the castle, trying to reach his destination before the darkness became too consuming. He wore nothing but a pair of tight, brown leather trousers, and a pair of black boots; the situation hadn't given him time to put anything else on. Sweat streamed down his bare chest, and off his cute, boyish features, as he launched himself up one stair case, then another.

He raced around a hallway encrusted with gold and jewels of all varieties; ascended one final flight of stairs two at a time, before barging through the ornately designed door at the end of it, straight into the clutter and darkness that made up the bed chambers of his master, Howl. He leapt over a floating stool, avoiding the pile of clothes on the other side narrowly, and sprawled by Howl's bed. The teenager grabbed the misshapen green lump that was at one stage a hand, and held onto it with all his might.

"Come on Howl, snap out of it, please" his voice wavered slightly, but remained strong for the most part; seeing his master like this always proved to be a heart wrenching experience "We need you here"

The translucent mass that could be recognised as a head turned towards him, regarding him with a watery gaze; a great sadness and misery could be seen in the still beautiful, blue orbs.

"Markl..." Howl's voice was weak, weaker than his apprentice had ever heard it before; he'd never seen Howl go this far before "No reason to live...Sophie gone...life is meaningless...So tired"

Markl's eyes began to cloud, as small tears began to drip down his features; he didn't like seeing Howl like this, hated it even. The man was his master, his teacher, but also a friend and a father figure, losing him would be a loss Markl simply couldn't endure at the moment, not so soon after Sophie. He squeezed the translucent lump of a hand, the simple steel grey ring digging into the palm of his hand.

"Please Howl" his voice shook, completely overtaken by emotions, and slowly got small, till it was nothing but a whisper "I can't lose you, _we_ can't lose you"

The green mass of liquid that was once the wizard Howl waved an amorphous limb in response. There seemed to be so little of the man left now.

"Tired...Of living...Running...You'll all be fine" the voice seemed to grow steadily weaker, scarcely audible now; each word was said with the weight of a thousand, and seemed to take all energy from what little of Howl remained.

Markl swallowed past the lump that had arisen in his throat, attempting to continue speaking, despite the tide of emotions that ran rampant throughout his body. He squeezed the hand again, feeling the small red jewel cut further into the palm of his hand. He lowered his head, looking down at the cluttered floor around him, before glancing up at his master again; the dazzling blue eyes still shining through the mass of green. He took a shaky breath, and spoke.

"Sophie would be ashamed to see you like this" Low, mournful, yet possessing a strength one would not imagine; as well as something else, something akin to anger.

Slowly, the darkness began to recede; candles began to sputter into life again, casting their gentle glow upon the walls. At the same time, the mass of green, translucent liquid began to take shape, slowly reforming into the handsome, shirtless man it has once been. Whilst his physical form had returned, Howl was still encased in a cocoon of green, which seemed to rise and fall as he breathed. Howl blinked a few times, looking around the room as if he'd forgotten where he was; he shut his eyes briefly, re-opened them, and sighed heavily. Small items around the room floated up as Howl sighed, and crashed back to the floor, scattering dust and detritus; the general cleanliness of the castle had deteriorated drastically now that Sophie was no longer around. In such a short time, the young woman had become the resident den mother.

The wizard looked down at the teenager crouched by the side of the bed, brunette hair a shaggy mess, his right hand clasped by both of the younger's as if his life depended on that physical connection. A small smile crossed Howl's face, the first in months.

"You're right. Please...help me clean up Markl" His voice was still thin, breathless, lacking all strength and substance, but there seemed a little more force in his voice than there had been, as if his strength were slowly returning.

Markl sniffed loudly, and released the hand he had been clenching so desperately. There was a painful indentation in his hand from Howl's ring, and his hands had ended up covered in the viscous, green liquid his master had been excreting. The current task would leave him entirely covered; it had the first time, and it had taken a few days to fully clean the bathroom, and that had been with Sophie's near manic level of cleaning energy.

The young brunette got up from the floor, and moved to the head of the bed. He bent over the plush cushions, all of which would now need washing, and slipped his arm around his master's surprisingly thin shoulders; the man must have been losing weight, no shock given how little he ate these days. Now, with one arm supporting his master's back, and the other holding his still frail feeling hand, Markl helped Howl off the bed, and down the long, winding corridors towards the nearest bathroom.

 _xxx_

A few hours later, Markl had succeeded in cleaning Howl up and raising his mood a small amount. Strangely enough, the young man had now become accustomed to bathing his master; though a small part of him did enjoy it. Gently lathering the man's shoulders, running a sponge down his firm back and lightly toned chest, watching the water trickle down his body, and observing the gentle smile on the handsome features. His black hair hung in an almost graceful mess around his shoulders, and his lips took on the most adorably pouty look when...

Markl shook his head roughly, bringing his thoughts back to the present, and out of the fantasy world he found all too tempting. He'd begun thinking of his master in a sexual fashion more and more as of late. Maybe it was a simple emotional bond, maybe it was something more, he didn't know. Everyone knew that Howl was attractive, the man drew admiring glances from men and women wherever he went, yet Markl had never once seen him show an interest in another male, so he pushed the feelings aside, and made do with being the man's apprentice, and even a friend. He learned a lot about magic from the man, and now, that he was technically an adult, he didn't want to jeopardise the place he had in Howl's castle.

Breathing out slowly, and trying to clear the sudden cloud that was fogging his mind, Markl picked up the bacon and sausages he had gone over to the work surface to collect. At one point, the food had been cleared into a tidy room, but, that had been all Sophie's doing. Food in hand, he turned back to the fireplace, Calcifer's home, and made his way across the dusty, wooden floorboards. Reaching the stone structure, the young brunette picked up a charred frying pan, and made a move to place it over the centre, only to be stopped by Calcifer's flaring and general fussing.

"Hey, stop right there kid" the small ball of fire that was the spirit shifted from side to side on the stone fireplace, small arm like appendages waving madly through the air "I don't like things being shoved in my mouth; especially when I've had to work three times as hard to keep this wreck moving"

The brunette sighed, and shook his head, the mop of hair shaking from side to side like a dog's fur. His cute featured screwed up into a look of pure frustration.

"Please Cal, can we just get on with this? You're fine every other time" frustration and exhaustion laced his voice, and a frown flashed across his otherwise happy and open features.

"No chance bub, I've had enough work for the day, I need to rest and stoke my flames" The fire spirit crossed his arms, and shook its fiery body from side to side "Go stick that thing in someone else's mouth"

Markl groaned, a sound filled with a mix of frustration and slight horror at what the little spirit had just said. Something so laced with innuendo did no good for his already confused brain.

"That's disgusting..." despite how much he disliked the reaction, Markl couldn't help but grin slightly. The spirit did have a certain way of lightening people's mood. A sly grin passed across the small, fiery mass, as it stretched out a hand, grabbed a bit of bacon from Markl's hand, and stuffed it into the maw that passed as a mouth. Calficer chewed a few times, before the bacon strip disappeared into the orange mass that was his body.

"You know kid, I bet I know someone who could stick anything in your mouth" Calcifer's voice dripped with innuendo; if he had eyebrows then they would have been waggling back and forth in a suggestive fashion.

Markl blushed bright red, and ducked his head in embarrassment; his slightly long, curling brunette locks falling over his eyes.

"I don't...know what you mean" the young man's voice was quiet and nervous "You're imagining things"

The spirit of fire cackled in response, dancing around his stone podium with glee. His long tongue flicked out, grabbing another bit of bacon that was quickly devoured, before he resumed his cavorting.

"Come on Markl, it's obvious you've got a thing for Howl. The hanging tongue kinda gives it away" Calcifer broke into another round of laughter, as the brunettes blush seemed to darken "So, do you want him to fuck you? Maybe you want to fuck him? You can tell your old pal Cal...bet you've thought about sucking on that long, hard co..."

"Please please please stop talking Calficer" the young brunettes words poured forth in a torrent of desperation and embracement "I don't want him to know...he'll hate me...it's not natural to have those thoughts. Please don't say anything; he'll kick me out, I don't have anywhere else to go"

A frown flashed across the spirits face, as he looked at the young man standing before him, looking so shame faced.

"What the fuck are you talking about Markl? Why would Howl hate you?" The fire spirit made a sound close to a snort, and puffed himself up, briefly glowing blue, and frowning at the teenaged wizard "He cares about you kid, he'd never throw you out. Where's all this coming from anyway? Why would you think he'd have a problem with this?"

Markl lowered his eyes, looking at the dusty floor, avoiding Calcifer's penetrating eyes. This revelation did nothing but cause him shame. He didn't want anyone to find out, yet he'd cracked under barely any pressure.

"In one of the new towns...I was out getting supplies" Markle swallowed, and looked back up at the spirit, not quite meeting his eyes "I passed by a group of locals, heard them talking. The things they said...it frightened me so much"

"Hey, don't listen to that nonsense. There's nothing unnatural about it. Attraction is attraction; you can't help it, or change it. Ignore what everyone else says kid, your happiness is what matters" Calcifer's tone had changed dramatically, gone was the humour and the teasing; it had been replaced with a force and protectiveness that only arose occasionally. The spirit felt great pity for the young man before him, looking so scared, almost helpless "If anyone says that to you, I'll burn the fuckers alive"

Before the young male could respond, his attention was drawn to the table in the centre of the room, by the small chuckle that had emanated from the bundle of blankets in the rocking chair, otherwise known as the Witch of the Waste. Ever since having her power sapped by Madame Suliman, the once feared witch spent most of her time in the rocking chair, seemingly oblivious to those around her; aside from the time she attempted to steal Howl's heart, the thing that had been keeping Calcifer alive. The only other thing she seemed to respond to was a small dog, the once servant of Madame Suliman.

"I remember a pretty young man with long blond hair. It's black now" the sunken face, covered with folds of skin, peaked out from the blankets, grinning at Markl and Calcifer "He put something in my mouth. Something big"

Markl and the fire spirit turned towards the rocking bundle of rags as one, matching expressions of disgust evident for all to see; expressions that seemed to grow larger as the Witch began to cackle at the pair with evident glee. After having now spent a few years living with the Witch, they'd all figured out that her seemingly senile remarks were not as absent minded as people might assume; she may have lacked her magical abilities, but her mind still floated around that pile of folded skin and bones she now was.

"I...I...Don't..." Calcifer shook his body back and forth, before making a retching noise, small flakes of wood flying from the depth of his fiery body, scattering the surrounding area with smoking wood chips "You're disgusting. Shit, I think I'm gonna hurl...You're enough to give a spirit nightmares"

The Witch continued to cackle, though the sound had taken on a distinctly raucous note, and she rocked back and forth with renewed force, clouds of dust rising around her like a mist. She stopped, and spoke again, her voice taking on a strange, dream like quality.

"I held his heart in my hands...so hot, so pretty" She looked straight at Markl, her eyes gleaming with a strange intensity "Like you...so pretty; such lovely hair you have"

Markl shuddered, and began edging towards the staircase; he hated being around the old woman when she lapsed into one of these moods. Sometimes, he didn't know which was worse: Howl's depression or listening to the Witch of the Waste recounting past conquests. However, within a matter of moments, the strange atmosphere in the room, some mix of humour and a distinctly uncomfortable feeling, vanished; being replaced with a clear feeling of relief and pleasure. The cause of this sudden mood change was very simple; it was the arrival of a man they all cared for, though he did bring a certain level of tension to the room, not that anyone would notice it. All aside from the one person experiencing it, a teenage wizard apprentice.

"Markl does have lovely hair" Howl's voice was crisp, clear, deep and mesmerising, and seemed to radiate joy and a sense of collectedness; he strode down the grand staircase, dressed in tight black trousers, boots, and a loose fitting button up white shirt "But, I'd rather you didn't scare my apprentice off, so could you kindly leave the poor lad in peace"

The Witch grinned in Howl's direction, and resumed a more subdued pace in her chair, a surprisingly warm laugh rolling past the shrunken lips. As Howl breezed past Markl, he placed his hand on his apprentices shoulder, squeezing reassuringly, and taking the remaining bacon and sausages from the brunette's hand. Howl cast the slices into the charred pan carelessly, before placing the old pan straight on the fire, receiving nothing but a muted grumble from Calficer in response; the life dept still seemed to have an effect on the small spirit. Howl released the pan, leaving things to cook in Calcifer's care, turned around, and leant against the stone fire place, surveying the members of his makeshift family. His hand remained on Markl's shoulder, a fact that did nothing but cause the young man an endless level of distraction.

Howl's hand seemed to radiate warmth; a warmth that travelled throughout Markl's body, setting each nerve on fire in turn. He felt as if his master's hand were physically burning his skin, leaving a hand shaped scorch mark upon his body for all the world to see. Such a simple gesture, an innocent touch, yet it left him reeling, unable to focus on anything other than that simple touch. Markl could feel himself blushing because of it, and from the heat Howl's body seemed to radiate; he wished Howl wouldn't stand so close...yet, he also craved that closeness. Wished for it, prayed for it, but knew he would never have it, _could_ never have it.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Howl's voice and the increased pressure on his shoulder, the shoulder where Howl's hand rested. He looked over at his master, only to find the dazzling blue orbs that were his eyes resting on him, almost looking through him with the intensity of the stare, yet those beautiful eyes seemed so gentle at the same time.

"Markl...Are you alright?" Howl's voice was low, concerned; he squeezed the younger brunettes shoulder "You're flushed, and shaking. Are you feeling okay?"

That tone and the comforting gesture were more than the young apprentice could take; these days, anytime Howl showed the slightest hint of caring, his heart would begin to race, and blood would start pooling where he really preferred it wouldn't, namely in his nether regions. At the same time, he'd get a nearly irresistible urge to lean into the man, and kiss those perfectly shaped lips.

"Uh...Just feeling a bit unwell" Markl ducked out from under Howl's hand, and rushed towards the stairs, and his bedroom; he needed to get out of the room, and allow his mind to settle, even if just for a few moments "I'm just going to sleep for a bit, don't worry"

With that, he ascended the stairs two at a time, leaving the ragtag group in the parlour, bacon and sausages still sizzling on the pan in Calcifer's mouth. Howl watched the young man leave the room, brows drawn together in a frown; Howl sighed, and crossed his arms, food completely forgotten.

"I hope he's alright, he seems so...distant" He was worried about his apprentice, more so now that Sophie was gone; the two had seemed so close.

Calcifer shifted around the charred frying pan, freeing his mouth, and removing the intense heat from what would soon be blackened and shrivelled bacon; even he did not enjoy bacon like that. And the spirit was known for eating empty egg shells. Calcifer stretched his fiery body towards the edge of his domain, towards Howl.

"The kid will be fine, trust me Howl" The fire spirit snatched a log from the small pile, keeping his base as stoked as possible "He's a teenager...they're weird by nature. I'll talk to him later if it'll make you feel better"

Howl sighed again, and turned to his old friend, a small smile forming on his handsome features.

"Thank you, I appreciate it" Howl turned to one side, snatched the pan up, and carried it to the table, before he collapsed into a wooden chair.

Calcifer slumped back on his logs, unsure of what to do. The cause of Markl's apparent moods was obvious, the kid was attracted to Howl, nigh on smitten for that matter; but he believed such feelings were unnatural. All of which set Calcifer a rather unpleasant task; how to help one person come to terms with their homosexual nature, whilst dealing with feelings for someone who may not and probably wouldn't, return them.

The spirit felt as if a great weight had been placed on his little shoulders, and he simply didn't know what to do about it.

 **Reviews are welcome, the more I get, the better really. It's always nice to know what people think about the work I do**


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